


Some Shimadacest

by AVoresmith



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Incest, M/M, Shimadacest, Yakuza AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8537377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVoresmith/pseuds/AVoresmith
Summary: From an alternate universe where you know, Hanzo decides to NOT murder his brother.





	1. Chapter 1

When the jobs are done it is just past dawn, and they stick to the long shadows cast by the growing light.

Genji made it through the night without getting a drop on him, but Hanzo was unlucky at the last stop. Word of their movements had gotten around, and Ando had holed up with as many loyal men as he could find. Neither of them had wanted to carve through so many bodies, but Genji had felt the most for his brother, knowing the pain in every arrow released, than he did for the traitors that wouldn't be returning to their loved ones tonight.

Hanzo hadn't been injured, but he had not escaped without the blood of one man neither of them even knew by name soaking his clothes; an arrow stabbed into the throat at short range, jerked out to quicken the death. Hanzo had rolled out from under the body before it was done convulsing and marched on Ando's barricaded office. The dragons ate well tonight.

But they are too far from Hanamura to make the return with one of them covered in blood, and Genji can tell his brother's agitation is moments from spilling over. Hanzo has always been the one with more control, and Genji doubts he has what it takes to contain a tidal wave of emotion that Hanzo is keeping an iron grip on behind tight words and shaky movements.

He settles for getting them some place that they can both rest, and calls in a favor over Hanzo's protests. A friend who works at a nearby hotel makes sure they'll have a room under an alias, and some warm sake waiting. Takashi knows better than to ask questions, and probably thinks it's just for a hookup besides. It gives them at least a few hours to collect and clean up away from curious civilians or enemies that would be coming after them.

Genji leads Hanzo into the hotel's back entrance, up the stairway instead of risking the elevators. By the time they reach the fifteenth floor even Genji is exhausted, and Hanzo looks like only his limitless pride is keeping him upright.

The door to the suite is unlocked, as promised. They enter and Genji turns the deadbolt.

The hotel is specifically designed to appeal to westerners, with high tables and large, plush furniture. The suite itself is one of the best, providing a grandiose look at the heart of Tokyo from floor to ceiling windows. The dawn is rising as red as the night had been.

Hanzo stands in the middle of the suite's soft blue hues; spine straight, shoulders set, none-the-less quivering with an energy that makes him seem smaller.

For a silent moment, Genji feels a bitter regret for every choice he has made that has lead up to this point. Maybe it had been too selfish to want his own life when everyone around him expected, _relied on_ , him wanting something else. Or maybe he should have just run off a decade ago, forced the family to abandon or kill him long before the choice fell on Hanzo's shoulders. Or should he have insisted that Hanzo exile him a week ago, instead of agreeing to help him take a stand? Is it really better to be together if it costs Hanzo the thing _he_ has been born for?

Genji shoves the uncertainty aside. There's no point in wondering now. The elders had demanded Hanzo do something about his wayward brother, instead the brothers had done something about them. There had been thirty men and women who stood on the Shimada-gumi's most influential council; as of this morning there are twenty five. The brothers had only targeted those who posed the largest threat, or had been most adamant in thinking it was their place to demand the new leader show his strength by killing his own brother. But Genji has no doubt that those remaining on the council will balk at realizing their new leader considers their lives more expendable than that of the promiscuous younger brother who is giving the family such a bad name.

Tonight had been the first battle, but would not be the last.

Genji wonders again why he is here. Why Hanzo _wants_ him here. And if either of them are really ready to pay the price of his continued place in the family.

"We need to return to Hanamura as soon as possible," Hanzo says, not looking at him, but with such a commanding crack in his voice that it startles Genji out of his thoughts.

"You need to clean up, and we both need a break." Genji corrects, approaching Hanzo with slow steps. He has seen Hanzo's fragility more in the last week than the entire rest of his life combined.

Hanzo turns to scowl, but when Genji responds with only an expansive gesture for his brother to look at himself, Hanzo concedes with a grimace. He is not _dripping_ but there is no way for him to be seen in daylight. He is going to need something new to wear entirely.

"Fine. But call Watanabe, make sure she knows what to expect."

"I'll take care of it, brother." Genji assures, and endures the look of uncertain scrutiny from Hanzo. It's not undeserved. He thinks he has been pretty good this week; reliable and focused. But he can hardly expect Hanzo to suddenly trust him with what needs to be done, not after so many years of doing his damnedest to avoid that kind of responsibility, and Genji isn't sure if he even wants the weight of his brother's faith on his shoulders.

Even now his feet yearn to carry him to a bar, to a club, to a lover's apartment. Anywhere but here, trying to piece together a way of life he's been avoiding for a decade. But Hanzo has done the unthinkable for him, so somehow Genji has to figure out how to behave like someone worth that devotion.

Hanzo nods and disappears into the suite's lavish bathroom. Genji begins to unfasten his gear and flops onto the couch. His weariness pounces almost immediately, demanding he lie down, rest. Not move for the next six hours at least. Instead he begins to clean his sword while he makes a call.

The Watanabes are unyielding in their loyalty of anyone whose name is actually Shimada, and no one else, so Rumiko Watanabe is the one he calls when the masters have been out starting a gang war. Without giving specific details, he has her increase the castle's defenses, and not allow in anyone with close ties to the targets they had eliminated tonight. For once Genji doesn't have a joke to assuage her concerns, but she accepts the orders without complaint. Part of her family's support means she has always respected him, even when he's done nothing lately to earn it.

Next is the problem of clothing for both of them. Hanzo's destroyed clothes go into a trash bag which he hands over to his friend with a cheeky smile and a request to toss it in the incinerator. Takashi asks in an excited whisper if this is _yakuza stuff_ and Genji sends him away with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to give him the details later.

Then it's a text to Maiko; she has started working as a sales clerk at a high end clothing retail, and he happens to need a couple of outfits delivered to the hotel. It's too early and she swears him out. He bribes her with a weekend vacation to any resort in Japan she wants. He tells her to make them look good.

By the time Hanzo emerges from a lengthy shower, wearing a plush robe and nothing else, Genji has started on the sake and moved on to cleaning Hanzo's weapons. It became been painfully silent with nothing but his own breathing and the distant static of the shower, and it's a relief to hear Hanzo's silent padding across the carpet.

Genji tries to appraise his brother without being obvious; he looks better, clean and out of the bloodstained clothing. But Hanzo holds the robe to him with white knuckles, arms crossed, eyes always finding something else to land on but never for long. The response is reasonable, but Genji has trouble seeing it as anything less than alarming. Before this week, before they had decided to take action that would almost certainly lead to many more deaths, he had never seen Hanzo look so insecure in his life.

"Why don't you have the news on?" Hanzo asks, pacing across the room to turn on the wall screen with a wave.

Genji turns it back off with a quick motion of his own before returning to his work. "C'mon, Hanzo. Sit down." Hanzo shoots him an incredulous look and Genji puts a soft note of pleading into his voice. Let his brother think he's doing Genji a favor if that's what it takes. "We can't go anywhere for a few hours. Waiting for it to be reported is only going to make you more anxious."

"I am not _anxious_." Hanzo hisses, rounding on Genji, who looks Hanzo over with his own open scrutiny.

"You're shaking."

Hanzo opens his mouth to argue, stares down at his own undeniably shivering hands, and clenches them into fists. "I'm _tired_."

"So _rest_. Drink some sake." Genji sets down the knife he had been cleaning and pours a cup for his brother. He leaves it on the table nearby and shifts to the side. When Hanzo only frowns at him, Genji pats the cushion on his right in encouragement.

After a silent moment of glaring ineffectively, Hanzo curses and drops onto the couch next to Genji. He ducks away from the bright rays of the morning sun, picking up the cup of sake and sitting almost hunched over it. Out of the corner of his eye, Genji can see the cup held not-quite steady between Hanzo's hands. He drinks the first glass quickly and pours a second.

In the last week Genji has watched Hanzo transform from someone who has never seriously considered taking the life of anyone close to the family, to a man capable of systemically wiping out opposition regardless of personal history. Not that any of the targets had be friends, but they had been storied members of the clan. Some men they had met as children, others who had known their father long before they were born.

Genji wonders if others will see him as harder and crueler now. He is sure that is the image his brother wants to project.

But he has been unable to look away from the cracks forming in the facade as quickly as it goes up. The distant looks, unsteady hands, the long silences in which Hanzo says nothing. His brother's silence creates a weight that crushes the air from Genji's chest, and he finds he can barely breathe much less speak words to lighten the mood.

He cleans the knife twice for something to do with his hands and wonders if he has irreparably changed what sort of a leader Hanzo would become.

He should have left years ago, he decides. And in the same moment realizes that now he cannot leave ever.

And there is an extra sting of guilt at realizing he still feels more for the loss of his own chosen path in life than what he might have done to Hanzo's.

It's Hanzo who first breaks the silence, letting out a decompressing sigh as if he has found a way to expel all of his uncertainties through only his breath. By then Genji has wound so far into himself that even a harsh puff of air startles him, and he nearly cuts his thumb on the blade in his hand. Hanzo doesn't seem to notice.

"Father's leadership came with the start of the Crisis." Hanzo's cup of sake is empty, he rolls it between his palms. "At first it worked in his favor, he told me that unity in the clan was never stronger than when everyone had a common enemy. But do you remember after that?"

"Mmm," Genji puts down the knife before he can embarrass himself, and pulls his legs up on the couch to turn toward his brother. It's a relief hear their voices, both of them tired and soft spoken in the large room. He lifts his hand in a so-so gesture. "Things were pretty tense for a while."

Calling it _tense_ understates his memories. He had been seven or eight, young but not so young he couldn't read the atmosphere. It was in those years that he first realized the the 'family' he had been raised in had vying factions, dangerous people who gave the face of loyalty while hiding a lust for power. He remembers the moment his father had warned him to not speak too freely around the Ando family, and tried to explain how someone could be both an ally and a threat.

And now he remembers Ando's screams as Hanzo's dragons devoured him.

Beside him, Hanzo nods. He does not lift his unfocused gaze from the cup, but his words are steady. " _After_ the Crisis it was worse than it had been since the second world war. Everyone had different ideas of how to fill in the void created by so much destruction, and the infighting was brutal. Too _much_ opportunity gives too many men ideas of grandeur. Father had to eliminate men he'd known his entire life to keep the family stable."

Stable isn't how Genji would have described it, but maybe that's why Father and Hanzo are leaders and he is not.

Hanzo looks to the side, as if his gaze is drawn to the empty corner of the room. "I caught him crying about it, once. After the three Ookas disappeared." The words come out and even and unconcerned, like Hanzo is revealing yesterday's weather.

"Hah," Genji tries to sound carefree, but feels his stomach clenching. He's unable to stop focusing on how out of sorts Hanzo looks. How distant and unconnected. Words tumble out of him only to keep the conversation going, when the mood is as miserable as this, silence is the enemy. "And now they're only remembered as traitors. And good dragon food."

There is the smallest curl to Hanzo's lip. But it flickers, then is gone. "Ando, Abe, Koga, Yasuda, Morioka." Hanzo lists each name off with solemn intonation. He expects sorrow, but instead his brother's voice only grows colder. "One day, that's all anyone will remember of them, as well."

Genji lets his chin rest on his knees, his eyes drift out toward the skyscrapers glowing to life in the morning light. "I guess you can't kill some guys then talk about how they weren't really that bad."

Hanzo clicks his tongue, a noise of sharp annoyance. "They wanted me to kill--" Hanzo stumbles over the words, as if they didn't both know this already. "Even if they do not respect _me_ , you would think if they had any respect for father they would not try to have one of his sons eliminated."

Genji laughs and tries to ignore how the sound comes out twisted and nervous. "You know they've been thinking about it for _years_. I'm more surprised they didn't just send someone themselves."

It wasn't the right thing to say, not from the way Hanzo's mouth twists into a disgusted grimace. He sets his cup down on the glass table with a sharp clack and puts his head into his hands. Blunt fingers thread through damp hair like he wants to pull on it.

 _Shit_ , what did he even say? This isn't the brother he knows how to tease, how to wrangle amusement or ire out of at a whim. He doesn't have a lifetime of practice with how to handle Hanzo on the verge of a breakdown.

"Hey," Genji unfolds, moves closer, he puts a hand on Hanzo's shoulder, finds the muscle there so tense it quivers. "Come on," Genji lowers his voice, soothing, almost teasing. "They had it coming, Hanzo."

Hanzo inhales a sharp breath, actually does yank at his hair and does not lift his head, shake Genji off, or speak. Genji's touch moves to the back of Hanzo's neck, where the muscles are hard as iron. Genji rubs his thumb back and forth over the clean skin before taking a slow breath and digging his fingers in, fighting to hold the cords, applying pressure until they finally shudder and release.

Something in Hanzo _also_ releases, and Genji hears a heavy, gasping breath escape him.

In a way, it calms his own anxieties, leaving only a chill discontent to settle between his bones. He can't keep wondering if he has fucked up irrevocably, not when it's driven Hanzo to this position. And he has nothing to do to fix it, only a quiet, soft touch, kneading the back of his brother's neck.

"I'm sorry." The words slip out of him. He's surprised by how easily the come, and how sincere they can be, even when he still isn't sure what specifically he is sorry for.

Hanzo stills, freezes like a held breath, and breaks when a hoarse bark escapes his lips. Something meant to be a laugh but with no sweetness. He waits for Hanzo to share the joke, and when no explanation comes, Genji takes his hand away. He gets to his feet. Maybe what Hanzo needs is silence. Maybe what Genji needs is to stop trying.

But as Genji stands a tired hiss escapes his brother, a hand closes around his wrist in grip that would bruise of Genji fought it. "Genji," Hanzo's face is still ducked down, and Genji expects to hear hidden anger. Instead his brother sounds plaintive and hurt. "You... did not deserve this."

Genji is silent, caught. Confusion disturbs the cool fog that has occupied his body.

Hanzo finally lifts his head. His eyes are dry and his features set in their usual hard, immobile lines, but he only meets Genji's startled eyes briefly before glancing away. "I should have acted sooner. I... I should not have ever considered..." The sentence rests unfinished, but Genji can only guess at one meaning.

"...killing me?"

 _Bingo_. Hanzo's features fold, pain no different than if Genji had put a knife in his chest clear on his face. The hand on Genji's wrist squeezes, relaxes, but allows no escape.

He hadn't thought about it, really. Whether or not Hanzo had actually considered carrying out the elder's wishes. Now he has an answer to a question he'd had no desire to ask.

"Hah," Genji murmurs, surprised to find no anger surfacing, just an added depth to his already brimming sorrow. He twists his hand in Hanzo's grip, curling his own fingers around his brother's wrist in exchange. "How the hell did we even get here?"

A silent huff from Hanzo, his eyes finally flicker up to meet Genji with flatly superior lift of one eyebrow. "Should I draw you a map?"

Genji feels the smile flash, reflexive and tired and genuine across his face. "Do you really want to be the know-it-all when everything is this fucked?"

"...Yes," Hanzo insists, after a moment of conflicted silence while his expression screws into a scowl. "I'm twice as incapable if I can't even look _back_ and see what went wrong."

It's rare for Hanzo to _vocalize_ his self criticisms, though Genji had noticed years ago that as much as their tutors challenged Hanzo, he set his own highest standards. And though Genji takes no particular pleasure in Hanzo blaming himself, the open honesty is a breath of fresh air that stirs at the lethargy clouding his mind.

Genji folds down, a casual graceless motion that leaves him sitting across Hanzo's thighs, which tighten in surprise even as Hanzo leans back to make space for him. It's a cute little move he's used a hundred times, though never on his brother. But it's intimate and revealing; no one lies to him when it's like this.

"Okay," Genji meets Hanzo's eyes, finds his brother confused but wary. "But I'm more interested in what you see if you look forward."

Hanzo opens his mouth, closes it, frowns. His fingers curl and uncurl from Genji's wrist in a wave, but his brother doesn't push him off. " _What?_ "

"We just offed a sixth of the council. So what happens next, boss?"

The straight forward question seems to distract Hanzo from his rising discomfort. He sucks in a tight breath and hardens beneath his surface. Hanzo's gaze shifts away from Genji as he speaks in even tones. "Even those on the council who support me will not be happy, I've now set the precedent that they are expendable, and that we are stronger than them. Individually, at least. Most of them will not rest easy for some time." Genji listens quietly. Hanzo doesn't resist when he tugs his brother's free hand into his own, pressing his thumb into the palm. "I should be able to buy a certain amount of stability, but anyone involved in the fractions we fought tonight need to be removed from the clan, and if they do not go quietly they can face the dragons instead."

More killing, then. Genji feels no surprise over it, only a chill detachment.

"If we are swift and decisive enough, we may be able to head off a drawn out war." Hanzo continues, voice turning distant as he draws up plans. "In time this will all be seen as a show of strength, and the council will know to think twice about what they demand of me. But only if I don't lose my grip on things in these first few years." A thoughtful click of the tongue and Hanzo's voice turns quieter still, until Genji does not think his brother is really talking to him anymore. "I think I will also take up Nam Sun Li on her request to start doing business. Anyone tempted to be a threat can have their members dispatched to South Korea."

Genji can't even remember who Nam Sun Li is, but he is guessing it's about weapons trade, the market there is always good.

"What about me?" He murmurs, almost just to pull Hanzo back onto a topic that interests him. But it has to be asked, and he doesn't know if they will ever be this close again.

Hanzo starts. He meets Genji's gaze, remembers their positions and seems to only just notice that Genji has occupied both of his hands. Genji's always liked Hanzo's annoyed face, and faint the blush only improves it. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what _happens_?" Genji rises, settles so that he is fully straddling Hanzo. He always felt this was a powerful position. It makes him unavoidable. "What if I keep being the worst brother? Does this all start over again?"

Chagrin chases across Hanzo's features. "You are not the worst brother." Hanzo sighs, then adds with a note of bitter humor; " ...just the worst yakuza."

Genji feels a smile flicker on his own lips. "You always know how to cheer me up, brother."

A sigh. "Don't pretend as if you have not acted intentionally." Hanzo's tone is haughty, knowing. "You're very good at being the worst. If you wanted to be the best you would be good at that."

This time Genji looks away. Finds he would rather think about Hanzo's thighs between his knees than the words coming out of his mouth. He squashes that impulse with a sense of rye self-derision. Forces himself to admit to what he should have years ago.

"...What if I don't want to?"

Before him, beneath him, Hanzo his silent. Genji cannot see his face, but he hears the breath enter and leave his brother's lungs. He feels the warm pulse beat steadily through Hanzo's wrists.

"Your life is your own."

Genji starts. After the last week he is beyond knowing what to expect, but for Hanzo to _yield_ is nothing he would have ever guessed. He turns back and searches Hanzo's morose features. "Even if I left? For good?"

Another long beat of silence where Genji has a difficult time focusing on anything more than Hanzo skin against his. But when Hanzo speaks he sounds clipped and quiet, almost indifferent. "If that is what you wish, you should do it sooner than later. It will be easier for your absence to be forgotten amid all the other turmoil. If you leave once things have settled it will cause another spike of discord."

Genji feels his mouth go dry, and is acutely aware of his spine as a cold pressure rolls down it. He is unable to determine if what he is feeling is relief or fear. In either case, all he can think to do is curl over Hanzo, forehead pressed against his shoulder, eyes closed. The hotel's soap smells like lemon and something else.

For the first time, Hanzo shifts under him, uncomfortable. He lifts his hands, but Genji still possesses both, so Hanzo relaxes again instead.

"Is that your intention, then?" Hanzo asks. He sounds weary.

Genji tries to think about it, tries to remind himself that he _must_ think about it. That he must tell Hanzo he hasn't decided yet.

But his heart beats full of useless honesty. He hears Ando's screams in his head again. His brother drawing a line in blood between him and the family that had tried to turn on him. He recalls the sobering realization that has been sinking into him all week: that now he _owes_ Hanzo. That he has allowed his brother to sort out his messes one too many times.

"If I stay..." Genji begins, unsure of how to continue, but even at those few words Hanzo tenses under him, his brother's heavy fingers curl around his. Genji almost laughs. He sits up, makes himself meet Hanzo's eyes and finds his brother guarded, suspicious.

Genji switches tack. "Do you _want_ me to stay?"

Hanzo opens his mouth before his brain settles on an answer. Genji can almost see the different questions and denials flitting through his brother's brain as Hanzo's face draws into a confused scowl. "If I had wanted you gone, I would have made you go." His brother sounds exasperated, like it pains him to explain the obvious.

"Heh," Genji looks away, perhaps he should get less quite pleasure from hearing it said, but it's novel; Hanzo always speaks with his actions. "You know I'm going to keep being a useless slut, right?"

Beneath him, Hanzo heaves a tired sigh. He again lifts the hands that Genji still maintains a loose grip on, again relaxes them without pulling away or pulling close. "You could always be a _useful_ slut."

Genji starts, laughs, and grins. "You know what?" He leans down, until his lips are an inch from his brother's jaw. He winds his fingers tightly with Hanzo's, locking them together. His heart thuds heavily in his chest. "I'll consider it. Let me know if you get any good ideas, brother."

He hadn't meant for his voice to come out quite that low, but it is worth it anyway to watch the slow flush burn up from Hanzo's neck, light his brother's face up with an incredulous glare. "Genji..." It's a warning.

But not a very strong one. Hanzo still makes no effort to shove him off, does not even protest their linked hands.

Interesting.

Genji is the one to disengage, detangling their fingers.

He folds his palm across Hanzo's mouth and kisses his forehead; an unfamiliar intimacy that he can tell leaves his brother confused.

"I'll stay."

He means to pull away. But the moment hangs a second too long, and then Hanzo moves. Two thick arms, one tattooed and one not, curl around Genji's back. The pressure is almost too gentle to be called a hug, it's more of a cage, preventing Genji's escape, but not pulling him closer.

Genji stills. He leaves his hand folded over Hanzo's mouth, suddenly unsure of what he might do with it otherwise. Hanzo's eyes slip shut.

They stay like that for several heart beats, until Hanzo relaxes. His hands drop to his side and Genji peels away. Standing up hits him with a strange sense of vertigo. His breathing is a hair too quick.

Hanzo gets to his feet, brushes past him. "I'm going to rest."

"Sure," Genji responds, voice easy and automatic. He takes a few steps back, giving Hanzo room to escape the seating area. "We should have new outfits arriving in an hour or so."

Hanzo nods. "Good, thank you."

Genji tries to remember the last time Hanzo had thanked him for doing something.

"You should shower," Hanzo adds as he turns away, heading for the bedroom. "You smell awful."

A quick whiff of his clothes; not bloodstained but now scratchy from dried sweat after their long night, reveals that, as usual, Hanzo isn't lying.

Genji showers. He spends the first quarter of it wondering if he should follow Hanzo into the bedroom. If Hanzo would _want_ that, or even tolerate it. And the rest of it debating if he should seduce Takashi into a closet somewhere. In the end he jerks off just to be free of his own confused arousal. He tries to think of any of a hundred people, but repeatedly what flashes through his mind is the warmth of Hanzo's thighs between his legs, the calloused hands held in his own, and the cautionary note in Hanzo's voice when Genji teased a little too close.


	2. Chapter 2

It's the end of a long day.

Hanzo is unable to nap in planes or cars, which is where most of his long day has been _spent_ , but he did manage to finalize negotiations with a lobbying firm that would be advocating for his interests in Brazil. Specifically, his interests in lowering the security that's been making it difficult to move product into the ripening market of Rio de Janeiro. This after nearly a month visiting some of the most affluent cities with rising populations to investigate their viability for new markets. Eventually he was going to need to make some friends within Vishkar itself; at least, if he wanted to have access to their wealthy markets of bored citizens eager for a quick high. But for now the rising discord in Brazil had too much potential to not jump on. Weapons for the discontent citizens, stimulants for the disaffected middle-class, and they have a high enough population of omnics that it could act as test market for the psychotropic chip his partners have been developing for artificial minds.

All in all, he had been quite satisfied with the plethora of viable prospects he had seen.

The first year of his reign had been spent weeding out unreliable factions from his own clan. Men and women who felt that because they had known his father, they would know Hanzo as well. But once Hanzo had taken a stand, the same ground had to be defended again and again, until everyone who objected to his leadership, his _priorities_ , had knelt or fled or died. Quite a few lives had been lost, even at the very top of the clan, and this had invited other threats, eager to make a move on the weakening Shimada-gumi.

But that was more-or-less in the past. It had been a difficult year, but eventually the disloyal parties were rousted, the Shimada territories and trade routes secured, and Hanzo had been able to turn his attention toward the expansion of the empire.

Hanzo idly loosens his tie and flicks though a series of images sent to his handheld earlier in the day; Genji and an older man, the former making goofy faces and the latter provoking them. The stranger looks a little familiar. Genji's texts explain he had gotten to meet Jordan Champion on the set today and they 'hit it off', which Hanzo has come to see as code for _I fucked him_.

With a quiet smirk, Hanzo types out a quick response:

"You should keep a book with the autographs of celebrities you've 'hit it off' with."

He doesn't expect an immediate response, Genji is often busy, especially since the rise in his acting career, but a rotating icon indicates his brother is typing and Hanzo relaxes into the plush seat of the car to wait.

"٩| ര ‿ ര |╯holy shit! for such a prude you've got some skanky ideas, bro."

"You're sentimental."  
"I'm sure you will enjoy having the memories when you're old and undesirable."

"counting the days, aren't you?"

"Who is this one, anyway?"

"Champion???"  
"Hanzo are you fucking with me?"

"You know I don't keep up with pop culture."

"you SHOULD, especially now that your lil bro is all up in it."  
"wait ◑.◑"  
"are you telling me you haven't seen _God AI from Hell_??"

"You know I don't keep up with pop culture."

"fuck. we're watching it next time we're both home"

"And when is that going to be?"

"I dunno."  
"you said you were heading back soon?"

"I'm en route to Hanamura now."

"I'm shooting in paris all week. then we head back to the US. but I think I've got a break in filming in like three weeks."

Hanzo sighs, by then he will likely be heading back to Rio de Janeiro to meet with new business partners. But he isn't surprised. While Hanzo had spent the last year expanding on the Shimada-gumi's reach, Genji had spent it pursing an acting career. Or maybe a _fame_ career, since Genji seemed just as happy to be talked about in tabloids or presenting himself as an internet personality as appearing in film.

Hanzo had, of course, called in a few favors to get him started. But nothing could have substituted for Genji's own talent for drawing all eyes to him. The bright green hair, winning smile, unabashed connection to an alleged criminal syndicate all combined to a soaring public interest. All the while his brother milking it for more attention, more money, more illicit affairs.

As a result, they are both busy. He keeps in close contact with his brother by phone and text, but he hadn't seen Genji in almost three months, and it is starting to look like it would be at least another.

Still, it's the best his relationship with his brother has been since their childhood.

"I may be busy then."  
"We'll work something out."

Hanzo spends the remainder of the ride home resting his eyes and listening to the vehicle's quite hum. When they arrive in Hanamura it is late, and Hanzo greets the night guards by name as he heads to the main house with his suitcase trailing along behind. The courtyard is beautiful at night; the trees have begun to turn as the fall chill sets in, and lamps hidden among the branches light up the leaves until they appear to be on fire. He is too tired to appreciate it properly, but watching the garden from his room for the next two weeks will provide a relaxing break from his many busy months.

He makes it to his room with few distractions, thinking of little more than the soft excitement of coming home to his own bed, and freezes with his hand on the door when he hears a soft sound from inside.

He flicks through the list of possibilities: almost certainly someone who works for him, either tidying up his room or waiting for his arrival. But he doesn't know anyone rude enough to enter his room without permission or poor enough at their job that they would be cleaning at this hour. So he ejects a long, thin blade from the handle of his suitcase and slides open the door.

On a low table there is a handheld with a holodisplay open to some American film Hanzo doesn't recognize. The volume is quiet enough that even with the door open, Hanzo can't quite make out the English being spoken.

He sees no one, but the door that leads out to his private garden is open. The bright orange fan of leaves provides some light, but he sees nothing moving in the dark.

The attack comes from above.

The assailant is a pale blur that falls heavily on Hanzo's shoulders. Hanzo turns his knife up toward the attacker but his wrist is caught, twisted away. Hanzo curses, shoves with his shoulder to throw the other man off balance, and notices a streak of bright green seconds before he hooks Genji's feet out from under him and slams him to the wooden floor. Hanzo has a hand at his brother's neck, a knee in his hip, and heaves out a startled breath.

" _Genji?_

Genji uncurls his fingers from Hanzo's wrists, lifts both hands in a show of surrender. He grins. "Surprise."

Hanzo stares down at him, feeling annoyance rising in automatic response to his confusion. The pieces fit together slowly. His brother had lied and surprised him with a trip home. Hanzo should be glad. _Is_ glad. But the knife is still clutched in his hand and adrenaline still pumps into his veins. He curls his fingers into Genji's throat, then lets go. "I could have _killed_ you!"

"Sure," Genji rolls his eyes, and sits up as Hanzo gives him room to. "I'm not _that_ out of practice, Hanzo."

Hanzo closes his eyes, tries to still his racing heartbeat, but he can feel the blood pounding against his temples. "You surprised me and still lost."

"I was trying not to hurt you." Hanzo opens his eyes to see Genji leaning forward, close. Close enough that Hanzo is reminded of the last time he and Genji met in person. Genji continues, "Anyway, it's good to be back."

Hanzo pushes the memory aside, gets to his feet, and after frowning down at his brother for a long moment, offers a hand.

Genji lights up. Predictably. He often takes what seems like too much joy from the smallest gestures. Hanzo hauls his brother to his feet and tugs him just close enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders in a loose hug. The careful distance of it is made pointless when Genji, again predictably, encloses him in a much tighter grip.

A slight smile tugs at Hanzo's lips, and he pulls back. "Welcome home, brother."

Genji grins, takes a few steps back, and spreads his arms. Triumphant, demanding all eyes on him, though Hanzo is the only one in the room. "Do you know how fucking hard it is to surprise you? I've been sitting on this for _weeks_."

"Hmm." Hanzo replaces the knife into the hidden compartment in the handle of his suitcase, and then tugs his luggage into the room before closing the door. "Why _is_ it a surprise? You could have just said you would be coming home."

The handheld displaying the foreign movie turns off as Genji gestures at it before flopping onto a floor cushion. "It sounded fun! Also, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to make it. The director's been just total shit about giving us solid schedules. Wants everyone to be available 24/7."

Hanzo lets out a soft snort. These are all complaints he has heard already, but in truth, he's pleased his brother is here. There is something almost soothing about listening to his brother's repetitive meaningless grievances when delivered in person. "The challenging life of a rising star." Hanzo shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it, folded, across his suitcase. The tie follows it, and Hanzo frees the first few buttons on his shirt. He notes, and makes an effort to dismiss, Genji's eyes on him as he does.

"It's actually a lot of work, you know." Genji has leaned forward with his elbows on the table. His tone stays even and playful.

"So you keep saying." Hanzo crosses the room to his personal bar and takes out a couple of glasses. "If it ever gets too much for you, let me know. I'm sure I can find something less intensive for you around here."

"Thanks, boss. If I ever decide fame isn't worth the fourteen hour days, I'll let you know."

Hanzo smiles, pours himself a glass of his favorite bourbon. "What are you having?"

"Ah, I'm good."

Hanzo can't stop himself from turning to shoot Genji an incredulous look, nor can he quell his immediate suspicion. Both reactions are obvious enough that he doesn't need to say anything. Genji lifts his hands with a sardonic smile. " _Wow_. C'mon, sometimes I don't drink."

"That is a lie." Hanzo informs him, only half joking. But he brings his own glass back to the table and settles comfortably on one of the cushions across from his brother.

"I over did it a few days ago," Genji laments, leaning one elbow on the table as he stretches out his legs. Hanzo notes without comment that his brother's toenails are painted in bright greens and pinks. "So I'm taking a break for at _least_ a couple of weeks."

Hanzo sips at his bourbon and flips through his memories of the last week, trying to remember if he read any remarkable new rumors about his brother. Nothing comes to mind. "Did you manage to keep whatever it was out of the feeds for once?"

Genji grins at him, a lazy smile. A wink. "The paparazzi only _wishes_ they knew half of what I get up to while shitfaced."

It occurs to Hanzo that Genji looks like he could be at a photo shoot right now. One of those faux-relaxed ones, where some pop culture idol is shown 'just being themselves' while also being grossly beautiful.

At first Genji had only enjoyed nominal success; small parts in Japanese films that he had only been able to get because Hanzo procured seat on the board of the production studio. But it is Genji's easy demeanor, constant presence in social media, and shameless displays of indecency that have made him a controversial topic. Genji always knew how to get people talking about him, and in popular culture, infamy and fame have few distinctions.

He has finally found a use for being in the yakuza as well. His open displays of his tattoo -- currently hidden under his white pants -- make him novel in the west, where such things are easily romanticized. And now even in Japan his popularity is up, mostly among the youth inclined to admire his rebellious spirit. Local recruitment is _also_ up, which is a boon after last year's bitter gang war, but one Hanzo still has mixed feelings about.

It has been a strange few months for Hanzo. Seeing the brother he had known his entire life be reinterpreted through the lens of the media that alternately adored and scorned him. He knows more about what is going on in his brother's life now than he ever had when they were growing up. Partly through watching the Genji Shimada feed, partly through actually asking his brother how he is doing.

They catch up.

Or rather, Genji catches Hanzo up on whatever small details he has missed. Hanzo drinks his alcohol and listens contentedly to behind-the-scenes gossip of the guaranteed action blockbuster Genji has a nominal part in; landed half due to his popularity, and half due to being an actual ninja. Apparently he can look forward to seeing his brother climb the Eiffel Tower while it is on fire.

It is when Genji is relaying a conflict between the film's two leading actors that Hanzo susses out Genji has befriended a famous omnic by the name of Glitchbot, and can't stop himself from sounding both curious and scandalized when he inquires if Genji is _actually_ sleeping with a machine.

Genji look skyward and offers only; "I can't _believe_ you actually thought I haven't before," before pressing on to a new subject.

Hanzo hears about the grueling schedules, the number of interesting people he has met, and the other job offers he has rolling in versus the ones he is interested in but likely won't get a callback on unless his current film does well.

And Hanzo offers what he can in return; gossip from within the clan, the frequency with which he was hearing teenagers had looked to join them after following Genji in the media, updates on a few marriages, and a few more acquisitions. But he has long since learned that Genji doesn't want to know where they are moving product, what they have in development, which markets seem most viable and which ones have been drying up. Their relationship has been much better since Hanzo stopped putting expectations of being involved in the criminal side of the family onto Genji. Now he leaves all of that off almost out of habit. If Genji wants to flaunt his tattoos while having minimal involvement in the family business, so be it.

The night wears on, and one hour of relaxing with his brother becomes two. Then his bourbon is gone and Hanzo's eyes begin to burn as his eyelids droop. It is his inclination to ignore his onset of drowsiness for the now rare opportunity to catch up with Genji, so it is his brother who first calls for a break in conversation. He reaches across the table to grab Hanzo's wrist when Hanzo's blink lasts a moment too long.

"Still with me there, Hanzo? How long have you been up?"

Hanzo grunts and rubs a dry hand across his tired eyes. He feels like he should be able to give Genji a precise answer, but also that doing the math between Brazil's timezone and Japan is currently impossible. He settles on admitting "A while."

"Still can't sleep on planes?" Genji inquires as he gets to his feet and then hauls Hanzo to his by pulling on the captured wrist. Hanzo allows himself to be directed, but notices that Genji doesn't let go once he is on his feet.

"I don't try very hard. How long are you in Hanamura?"

"A week." Hanzo struggles to mentally pull up his calendar and determine which of his responsibilities could be pushed back by a few days. His feet and Genji's hand at his back escort him willingly to bed. "Maybe a bit more or a bit less. I'm not kidding about what a pain trying to schedule around this shoot has been."

"Good of you to go through so much trouble to make time for your family." Hanzo murmurs, with no bite. Now that he is thinking of sleep, he has to stifle a yawn behind his knuckles.

Hanzo's bed is a firm mattress on a low pedestal that only comes up to his knees. Expensive cotton sheets are layered in black and white with dragons embroidered across the foot in a deep, glossy blue thread. He walks past it and begins to undo the buttons on his shirt only to find his elbow caught on his brother's hand. A knot of suspicion forms in Hanzo's stomach and he turns back.

Genji is a bit taller than him. Hanzo rarely thinks about it anymore, but when his brother is very close it is noticeable and a bit perturbing. The last time Hanzo was given a reason to think about it was also the last day they had been in Hanamura together, when the night before Genji left to begin his new job they had celebrated, and his thoroughly drunk brother had shoved him against a wall in the garden and pressed their mouths together.

Now, once again, Hanzo is surprised to find Genji close enough to kiss.

"C'mon, Hanzo." Hanzo can feel the air stir from Genji's words, and crackle from his sly smile. "You've gotta know I'm basically just here for you."

Hanzo freezes, feels disoriented and dull, caught between continuing the conversation as if it were not a mere pretense, or directly addressing something when he has no idea where to start. A quiet, wary "What are you..." is as far as he gets out before his brother shoves at his hips, knocking him off balance so that he bounces back onto the bed.

" _Genji_!" Hanzo hears himself snap, surprise more than anger. Exasperation more than surprise. Genji is again inviting himself into Hanzo's lap. Both like and unlike two years ago. Then he hadn't really been able to grasp what his brother wanted. Now he's quite sure he knows.

His brother's fingers grab for the front of his shirt. His own hands close over Genji's wrists.

Three months ago, Hanzo had indulged Genji's drunken attention longer than he should have. Responding to that unspoken want hadn't seemed so confusing after half a bottle of sake. But then Hanzo had shoved him away, sent him to bed, gone to his own, and they had not spoken of it since.

Hanzo had convinced himself Genji had forgotten, and been pleased that his brother hadn't withdrawn from him or otherwise tried to discuss the awkward incident.

Now, with Genji's weight settling eagerly on top of him, Hanzo suspects his brother had forgotten nothing.

Before Hanzo can draw together some kind of response -- questions he doesn't really need to ask, a protest he isn't sure he means -- Genji leans in. He expects to feel his brother's mouth on his, almost hopes for it because it would spare him needing to find a verbal response, but instead Genji just butts him playfully in the forehead.

Hanzo squints. Genji grins.

"Sorry to be pushy." Genji has the gall to _tease_ , as if he is perfectly comfortable with what he is proposing. As if this is not completely unexplored territory for both of them. "But seriously, _tell_ me you haven't been thinking about me."

Well, finally. A prompt he knows how to respond to; "I haven't."

He expects the assurance to at _least_ give his brother pause.

It does not.

Genji smiles with a quiet confidence. It's a face he's seen his brother level at him before, but usually only with a sword in hand. "Not even once?"

Hanzo's lungs freeze, then he exhales in one short gust. He could lie, he is certainly tempted to. But the last two years have been good between them, in part because Hanzo had made a deliberate effort toward honesty.

So a silence as good as truth hangs between them, and it takes only a second for Genji's grin to flash wide.

Hanzo contemplates kicking him out of the bed for his cockiness alone.

"I've thought about you waaaay more than just once." Genji assures him in a low voice. Hanzo is sure it's the one he's used on hundreds of other people, and is quietly dismayed to note that it's still effective. The benefit of extensive practice, maybe.

"For how long?" Hanzo asks, turning slightly away to focus on the corner of his room. But his focus is still drawn back to the warm beat in the air between them each time Genji exhales.

The question slows his brother, if only for a moment. Then there is a nose pressed against Hanzo's temple and Hanzo hears Genji suck in an unsteady breath. "Hah." The sound is weak; the first dent that's appeared in his confidence. "I mean..." Hanzo turns back enough to look at Genji from the corner of his eye, finds him surprisingly abashed. "I guess it's been a couple years."

He is not really surprised. For Hanzo, the idea had only risen to the point of an unexpected desire in the last six or so months, and even then only for brief moments. Weaknesses of impulse that he dissected and then put into a dusty corner of his mind where every other too-human failing went. But the _idea_ had sprung up two years ago, in a hotel in Tokyo. And Genji _would_ be more susceptible to this particular dark thought.

"Why?" Hanzo asks next, and is immediately unsure of if he even desires that answer. But he needs to stall, and keeping Genji talking is the best way to put off his own decisions.

But this question doesn't have the reaction he is hoping for either. Instead of stuttering out something else, Genji shoves at him, pressing on his chest. And when Hanzo refuses to fall back, his brother instead grabs his jaw, fingers scruffing through his beard, pulling until Hanzo agrees to look directly at him again. Genji has a sly smirk, and Hanzo feels a thumb press on his lower lip. "I dunno, _brother_. Why don't you tell me?" Hanzo sets his mouth in a hard line and glares, which only amplifies Genji's smirk. "I wasn't the only one enjoying that kiss."

"I did not _start_ it." Hanzo hisses, unsure if his frustration is more for Genji's flippancy, or shrewdly putting the question back on Hanzo, knowing he would have no answer. He jerks at Genji's wrist until the touch leaves his lip, but it does nothing to help with the distracting weight of Genji straddling his thighs. He notices his own breathing is pitching and wants to swear.

"You can't put this all on me, Hanzo." Genji is settling, not fighting the iron grip Hanzo has locked on his wrists, but relaxing into Hanzo's lap as if he hasn't a care in the world. "I mean, you _can_." He corrects himself, flashing a smile. "Go ahead blame me for being just that hot, if you want. But being into your own brother?" Genji reaches forward with one finger, tapping Hanzo lightly on his nose. "That's on you."

Hanzo jerks Genji's hands away again and sputters, " _You_ are the one shoving me onto a bed!"

Genji only misses the slightest of beats, Hanzo barely catches it, the tiny sliver of hesitation in his smile. Then he tilts both hands, palm up, acquiescing. "Yeah, thinking my older bro's just that hot is on me." When Hanzo has no immediate answer to that, Genji leans in toward him again. "But Hanzo. Name one other person you'd let do _any_ of this."

Hanzo stills, eyes darting way from his brother's smug face. With a rising sense of desperation he flips through possible options. The list of men he would be willing to go to bed with is quite short, and Genji is correct, none would get away with this particular method. Hanzo's own preferences have little to do with it; he is the head of the Shimada-gumi, first and last. Anyone else claiming half of Genji's audacity would have half as many fingers.

There is something strangely comforting in the fact that Genji has figured all of this out. That he understands how unique his position is.

Of course, this _would_ be what Genji uses it for.

A soft laugh escapes Hanzo.

It's not defeat, or resignation. When he releases Genji's wrists, hands springing open like unlocked handcuffs, it feels more like realignment. No new questions have been answered, but he's been reminded of old ones, answered two years ago.

"That's right. Only me." Genji's quiet voice is still insufferably cocky. But he closes the distance in an instant, and this time Hanzo doesn't stop him.

Despite an obvious eagerness, Genji does not rush. Hot breaths whisper between soft kisses. Hanzo feels firm hands cupping his neck, then the back of his head, before freeing Hanzo's hair from its tie. Genji buries his fingers in the dark strands like _that_ is what he's been waiting to continue for three months, and Hanzo makes a soft, embarrassed sound of pleasure at the touch. Yes, that had been nice too, and still is when he is sober.

Hanzo does not know where to rest his hands. Everything available belongs to his brother, and a part of his mind still balks at that even as he permits Genji to deepen the kiss. He's forced to figure out how to respond to a tongue in his mouth before he decides between a landing zone of waist or hips. And quickly he is too distracted to make the call; thighs become the de facto winner and Hanzo curls his blunt fingertips into the thick cords of muscle as Genji rises up on his knees to bear down.

And Hanzo allows that as well, face tilted up into a weighty kiss, surprised by how tantalizing he finds Genji's illusion of bigness.

He expects Genji to push further faster, but minutes pass and Genji instead settles back into Hanzo's lap. Heavy fingers drag and pull and pet through his hair, over and over, steadier than his heartbeats, and with each kiss Hanzo feels himself relaxing into it. A sense of urgency trickles away when Genji's wet breath continues to billow across his lips but no elders show up to condemn them. No dragons come to devour.

As the head of the Shimada-gumi, he is one of the most powerful men on this planet, and he can do what he desires, even his own brother. Hanzo smiles faintly at the entirely unclever humor, and Genji responds in kind, perhaps riding a similar wavelength.

Hanzo curls a hand around Genji's back, tugs but with little pressure. It's enough to bring Genji back to him, warm lips and warmer tongue open to Hanzo's curious explorations. And they stay that way for longer than Hanzo bothers to track. Desire is built up in waves; Genji opening Hanzo's shirt, rubbing a rough palm across his skin, pulses rising as their breaths become less frequent. But before they hit a tipping point, the energy is instead left to settle again, more at Genji's allowance than Hanzo's insistence.

With begrudging admiration, Hanzo begins to recognize that there is a strategy in play. His brother is plying him with patience and comfort without ever _actually_ withdrawing in the slightest. Even as charged, biting kisses give way to mild nips that trace across his jaw, Genji remains plastered to Hanzo's chest, melted there by the heat that Hanzo is starting to find dizzying.

" _Genji_." In his head, it was reprimand, when the name escapes his throat it sounds much more like a plea.

As if he was somehow waiting for that, his brother smiles down and grinds down into Hanzo's lap. The sudden pressure sends a sharp spike of arousal through him and Hanzo lets out a hiss, freezing out of impulse to deny being affected, already knowing it's useless. He feels feverish.

Genji sits back with a smug smile, hands traveling to the front of his own shirt and undoing one button at a time while rolling his hips down onto Hanzo's in a slow but relentless rhythm. Hanzo sucks in a sharp breath, dignity all that keeps him from looking away like a flustered teenager, and Genji laughs. "You look pissed, Hanzo. Mad your brother's so hot?"

" _Please_ ," Hanzo infuses as much acid as he can into his voice, knows it will be useless when he feels and is sure he _appears_ quite out of his depth.

This only prompts another laugh as Genji finishes opening his shirt, presses closer again, until they are chest to chest. "Mad you _think_ your brother is so hot?"

"Amazed he is so consistently full of himself." Genji is wrong on all accounts, but Hanzo has no interest in explaining. He focuses instead on untucking Genji's shirt from the back of his pants. His palms move onto the smooth skin over Genji's spine in soft pets. It's the first exploratory touch Hanzo has made, and it is disorienting to feel Genji quiver in response to so little.

"Got to have confidence to get what you want." Genji's voice shivers into Hanzo's ear, a note both teasing and sincere. "I learned that from you."

Hanzo feels his breath catch and mutters, "This was _not_ the intended application of that lesson." He peels the opened shirt off Genji's shoulders, drawing both hands down naked skin, finds it a remarkably easy way to inspire Genji to sigh and hum against him.

Genji laughs, plants a damp kiss under Hanzo's ear, grins into his skin. "Well, I _am_ the creative one." Hanzo snorts and doesn't disagree, tilts his head just enough to be an invitation which Genji accepts, and a wet line is drawn up to the shell of his ear. Hanzo closes his eyes and exhales. When Genji continues, his voice seems to reverberate inside of Hanzo's skull. "And I've been coming up with a _lot_ of things we can do this week, _brother_."

Hanzo feels his face go hot and curls his fingers against Genji's bared back. The way Genji says brother, low and deliberate, tightens his stomach. But it also makes him wonder what exactly Genji seeks from this. Is it another thrill? Fucking omnics was not enough, time to check siblings off the list? Or is it something more than that?

But he doesn't ask, doesn't know which answer would be preferable. He hasn't even had time to rationalize his own willingness.

He ducks his head down, lets his forehead rest against Genji's shoulder while his fingers continue a quiet path down the landscape of Genji's back. He notes that his brother is considerably more built than the last man he was with.

"You've been planning this."

"I mean..." There's a buzz of shameless amusement in Genji's voice. "I call it _fantasizing_."

Hanzo inhales sharply and keeps his face hidden when he is sure that did nothing to lessen his humiliating reaction.

Genji tugs the opened shirt from Hanzo's shoulders with a gentle touch. "Just about every day, if you want to know the truth." Hanzo did _not_ want to know that, nor does he quite believe it, he jerks his head up to give Genji a suspicious glare. Genji grins at him. "Hey, that's not that unusual for me."

"I can't even imagine."

Now hands are on Hanzo's chest, pushing him again, more lightly than before but this time Hanzo abides by the request. Slowly uncurling, lying back. The exposed posture makes his heart race. One smart word from Genji and he will turn the tables. But the smart word doesn't come, instead Genji leans over him, appreciative and by all appearances _delighted_ , and Hanzo shivers as lips find his neck.

"Guess I've been imagining for both of us," Genji's words vibrate into Hanzo's skin. "Trying to figure out if you'd even let me touch you." Genji cuts a wet streak down Hanzo's collar. Hanzo curls his fingers in his brother's hair, finds the green strands surprisingly soft, but makes no attempt to stop him. "If you'd like it if I did." Somehow Hanzo is not quite expecting it when a warm mouth closes over his nipple, tongue rubbing across sensitive skin.

Hanzo punctuates a sharp breath with a curse, jerks on Genji's hair, and presses the back of his hand to his mouth when Genji's attentions continue. As if he could actually hide the moan it wrings out of him.

The lance of pleasure every time his brother's tongue -- _his brother's tongue_ \-- drags across his nipple is by itself enough to consume all of Hanzo's attention. He almost doesn't quite notice the hand dragging down his side. And when he feels the warm touch dancing over the band of his pants and then down his hips, he doesn't try to stop it.

No. That is a lie.

He presses his calves against the edge of the mattress and arches into it.

There is a brief, sharp pressure against his chest. Genji's teeth. Grinning right before he palms Hanzo through the thin, smooth layers of clothing.

This time, Hanzo says his brother's name on a gasp. Then his mouth closes and moans only manage to escape as harsh hums. But that is all the restraint Hanzo can manage. It's certainly too much to expect him to not grind up against his brother's hand.

Above him, Genji inhales. An inward hiss, a soft and awed "Oh...".

Hanzo doesn't look at his brother, and instead drapes an arm over his eyes. He feels almost _betrayed_ that this feels nothing like any other experience he has had. He's too reactive, has made this too easy for Genji. It's so _little_ ; kisses, soft touches, and a hand on him through layers of clothing.

But the jagged spikes of pleasure from those are undeniable, and Hanzo is humiliated to realize he is close to his climax from just this.

"Wait," Hanzo demands, voice hoarse, counting on Genji to stop what he can't. And his brother does, shifting his touch over to press down on Hanzo's thigh instead. Hanzo falls back with a shiver, catching his breath in heaves. He can feel Genji stretched on top of him, rising and falling with his lungs.

"Heeh. Gotta say, didn't guess you'd be this sensitive, Hanzo." Nimble fingers on the front of his pants. Genji undoes the button and Hanzo feels the waistband go slack. "You hide it really well."

"I..." Hanzo sorts through several possible responses. _I'm not usually?_ No, his brother would take it as flattery. _It's just been a while?_ True, but useless as an explanation. _Shut up?_ He might as well just say _you win _.__

__Before Hanzo can settle on a response, Genji plans a soft line of kisses on Hanzo's chest. He suspects they follow the edge of one of his tattoos. "Or is that just for me?"_ _

__Hanzo tenses, feels the hand still buried in Genji's hair curl reflexively. He wishes to disavow his entire traitorously honest body, and wonders when his brother became so observant. Is it because they have become closer? Or is Genji simply at his most clever between the sheets?_ _

__Genji curls over him. Forehead pressed against Hanzo's collar. Hanzo stays unmoving; vision still obscured by the crook of his own arm, warm breath still puffing out of him._ _

__"God, we're fucked up." His brother's words come out low and broken with silent laughter. But Hanzo winces just the same._ _

__"I have noticed."_ _

__A thick forearm slithers behind Hanzo's neck, curling under him to create a warm pillow for his head. Hanzo lifts the elbow he has hidden behind peek at his brother, he finds Genji has made himself comfortable directly above him. A slight smile, wide eyes, face flushed with a rosy warmth._ _

__"It's not so bad," Genji assures. "Though... I've got a lot of practice being fucked up."_ _

__Hanzo finds himself strangely grateful for the unexpected intimacy. He can feel his body relaxing away from feverish arousal as well as uncertain anxieties. He pulls together a response with a bit of forced humor. "I suppose I've been due."_ _

__Genji's responding chuckles are quiet but his grin is huge. "Be a rebel, Hanzo. Fuck your brother."_ _

__A wave of embarrassed warmth rushes up Hanzo's neck, but instead of returning to hiding his face, he presses a palm over Genji's instead._ _

__He should not be surprised but somehow he is _still_ startled when rather than be pushed away, Genji shamelessly nuzzles Hanzo's hand. Warm lips trace over the palm, then part, and Hanzo feels the soft texture of warm tongue. "Honestly," Hanzo breathes, not sure if he sounds more fond or exasperated. "Is this really so easy for you?" As he asks it, Genji's teeth have captured the pad of Hanzo's thumb in a playful nip._ _

__Genji is slow to respond, perhaps distracted with stamping soft bites into Hanzo's skin. But then he meets Hanzo's eyes for a lengthy heartbeat, and looks away with an unexpected flush._ _

__It's a bit startling, to see Genji be vulnerable. Here, in his domain._ _

__"I mean, if you consider 'It took me two years, like eight shots, and the promise of not having to look you in the eye for a few months before I even went for it' _easy_. Then sure, yeah, I'm basically a natural."_ _

__In that light, Hanzo is once again aware of the amount of thought his brother has put into this. "Ah, so you really did plan this."_ _

__"God, I had to." Genji flops down on Hanzo's chest, forehead banging gently on the rise of Hanzo's collar. Curiously, Hanzo drops his hand against Genji's scalp. "I wasn't going to spend five, _ten_ years thinking about it. If you weren't interested then, you know, _awkward_." Genji turns his head into Hanzo's palm. "I figured even worst case scenario, you weren't gonna disown me."_ _

__Hanzo snorts, and pulls gently on the hair in his hands. "It would be an awful waste, at this point."_ _

__Genji grins. "That's what I figured. Hanzo can't kick me out _now_. He's in too deep."_ _

__Hanzo counts the flippant comment as a sign of their closeness, which had increased dramatically in the early days of the conflict over Hanzo's succession. Despite clearly not enjoying any of it, his brother had supported him unilaterally. Whether that meant agreeing or fighting until Hanzo considered alternate options. The blood that was spilled is not something either of them takes for granted, but at times they both pretend._ _

__Still, it isn't a subject Hanzo has any desire to dwell on. Not when, despite the anxiety he can feel clawing at the doors in the back of his mind, _for the moment_ , this moment, he is warm and comfortable._ _

__It's because he realizes that he _is_ calm, that Genji's casual fearlessness and openness have lulled and grounded him, that Hanzo realizes it would not take so much to be a more active participant._ _

__When he rolls them, pulling Genji off to the side, shifting his weight on top of his brother, Genji does not _resist_ , no. He drags Hanzo on top of him._ _

__Hanzo is somehow startled and a little breathless to see his brother grinning up at him. His own thighs part around Genji's hips; a thoughtless maneuver that still floods his lower stomach with a pooling warmth._ _

__Genji's hands are on Hanzo immediately. A palm brushes through his beard, fingers tug on strands of disordered hair. "Shit, you look good, Hanzo." Genji's appreciation sounds so sincere Hanzo cannot think of a response. He presses his lips to his brother's so he won't have to._ _

__It keeps getting easier._ _

__The dirty truth is that slipping his tongue into his brother's mouth already comes more naturally than any other excited and curious encounter he's enjoyed. It probably speaks more to his lack of experience and difficulty with openness than his predisposition for incest, but Hanzo kisses Genji with little reservation._ _

__Now that Hanzo is _participating_ , it is immediately obvious how reactive Genji is. Pleased sighs, whines, and hums all escape Genji's throat, often not waiting for a break in the kiss. When Hanzo draws a hand down Genji's side, the body under him quivers; bulky muscles drawn tight and radiating warmth. Hanzo pinches a nipple and Genji yelps in surprise before immediately devolving into a moan. Big hands clasp on Hanzo's ass in return, and Hanzo gasps, breaking the kiss when that touch sends a shock of pleasure straight to Hanzo's cock, despite Genji's hands being no where near it._ _

__Genji relaxes back to stare up at Hanzo. His hips arch deliberately up and Hanzo can feel a hard bulge pressing up between his legs._ _

__He shudders._ _

__"You know how you'd _really_ look good?" Genji asks. Despite half teasing, Genji's voice comes out so low, cut by deep breathes, that his arousal can't be missed._ _

__Hanzo locks eyes with his brother and says nothing. Challenging Genji to finish._ _

__The smirk that stretches on his brother's face has a sly confidence. Hanzo feels Genji's fingers curl more deeply into his ass. "You'll look just _amazing_ riding my cock."_ _

__Ah, of course he really said it._ _

__Hanzo closes his eyes. His hands brace on Genji's chest. Despite Genji seeming comparatively relaxed, he can feel a warm pulse pounding behind his brother's ribs._ _

__He shifts his hips and feels Genji's cock against him again. Hears his brother gasp again. Feels his mouth go dry as he tries to form an answer._ _

__Genji sits up and strong arms circle him, tug him close with a casual comfort Hanzo isn't expecting; that he is, perhaps, embarrassed Genji seems to think is needed. Genji's mouth opens, probably prepared to again distract him, sooth him, wait on his uncertainties. Hanzo presses three fingers against his brother's lips, silencing him before Genji can provide other options._ _

__"Did you bring condoms?" Hanzo asks._ _

__His fingers can't contain or hide the brilliance of his brother's grin, the frankly childish delight. " _Obviously._ " Genji says, and as soon as Hanzo nods and withdraws his binding fingers, his brother's lips are on him again. One heavy hand curled deep into Hanzo's ass, the other at the back of Hanzo's head. Clutching Hanzo close for a messy, enthusiastic kiss. Hanzo can barely return it. He bites Genji's lips in reprimand, but shudders and groans against him anyway. When Genji releases him Hanzo notices that he's left wide, white lines on his brother's broad shoulders._ _

__He exhales in ragged heaves. Clenches his eyes shut and resists the urge to rut against Genji until he comes._ _

__From beyond the dizzying pounding of his own blood, he hears Genji laugh. A sweet and easy sound. Wet lips brush across Hanzo's cheeks, creating a quick chill when Genji's touch moves on and the air moves in. "Sorry." He murmurs, petting Hanzo's thighs in soothing touches. "I mean, not really." Another quiet laugh. "You're the best, Hanzo."_ _

__Hanzo lifts and focuses his eyes just to glare at his brother, but finds the attempt ineffectual in the face of Genji's smug, radiant pleasure._ _

__He sighs and pulls away. Shaky as he gets to his feet._ _

__Without the warmth of his brother's body, his bedroom seems _cold_ , and he recalls the door to the garden left open in the other room._ _

__"Get your pants off." Hanzo orders, and is surprised by how low and broken his own voice sounds._ _

__"You're the boss," Genji hums, popping the button on his pants without bothering to get off the bed._ _

__Hanzo turns away, then tells himself that isn't strange. That he isn't revealing any embarrassment. That he is _long past_ the point in his life where he feels self conscious about his appearance. He strips his pants and underwear. Folds the former out of habit, then finds he has no where in reach to put them that they won't get mussed except for the floor. He debates the merits of making the uncomfortable walk to the closet._ _

__That is probably silly; the pants are wrinkled after rolling around the bed with Genji anyway. But he can't remember the last time he just dropped clothing on the floor._ _

__" _Hanzo_." With no more warning than Genji's incredulous tone, the clothing is yanked from his grip. Genji looks him in the eye and tosses the pants into the corner of the room. Hanzo watches them go with a sigh. "I can't believe you call _me_ ridiculous."_ _

__Once again, a warm flush spreads across Hanzo's face, but his eyes are instantly drawn down._ _

__He tries to prepare himself for the sight of his brother's erect cock, so he is completely unprepared for his brother's erect cock sheathed in condom of neon pink and green swirls._ _

__It stands out brilliantly along side Genji's tattoo; a darker green dragon amid metallic silver lightning, curling up his right thigh._ _

__Genji leans back on one hand, legs comfortably spread and framed by dark sheets. He beams up at Hanzo, unabashed, as Hanzo's mind is helpless to do little but slowly catalog the details. He wonders if this exact image has ever appeared in any risque magazines._ _

__"Your condoms match your toenail polish," Hanzo finally observes._ _

__Genji bursts into a bright laughter. "Aesthetics are important, brother. " And when hands circle Hanzo's wrists and tug him down, he goes easily. Tension cut by Genji's absurd _aesthetics_. He wonders if this was also planned. "They're strawberry-kiwi flavored," Genji informs him, cheeky. "In case you were curious."_ _

__"Are you changing your request?" Hanzo manages to keep his voice even as he lifts an eyebrow. Despite that he is settling back over Genji's thighs._ _

__"Not a chance." Genji leans back, giving Hanzo space but also blatantly drags his gaze across Hanzo's body. Hanzo looks to the side, but still doesn't miss the grin that splits his brother's face when his gaze reaches Hanzo's cock. It stands proud between them, but with notably less height than his brother's._ _

__Genji's hand goes to it immediately. Hanzo groans and lifts his hips toward the soft touch. An errant thought reminds him that this is his _brother's_ hand, and that does nothing to lessen the appeal. "I can't believe you never told me your dick is small."_ _

__Hanzo huffs out a heated breath, torn between exasperation at the words and pure distraction at the touch. "Do you _listen_ to yourself?"_ _

__"The small ones are _great_." And Hanzo wants to tell him he'd rather it be ignored than hear a flood of reassurance, but the sincerity in Genji's voice halts him before he gets out more than a sigh. "I can fit the whole thing in my hand." Genji murmurs, delighted, and does just that._ _

__Hanzo bites his lip. The fist encircling his cock sends a deep pull straight up into his stomach. He rocks forward with a curse, hisses his brother's name in sharp reprimand, curls his fingers deeply into Genji's shoulder in warning._ _

__The frustration is more for himself than Genji. He wonders if these uncontrollable impulses are going to continue to limit and _embarrass_ him, or if it is just nerves of this first encounter and all of the illicit weight behind it._ _

__Genji chuckles, releases him, and just rubs gently at the base with the heel of his hand. "Okay, okay. C'mon." And then both of his hands are tugging at the backs of Hanzo's thighs, pulling him closer until Genji's arms are wrapped around him. Hanzo rests his arms on Genji's shoulders and sucks in a sharp breath and feels a warm, dry finger press at his anus. "You done this before?"_ _

__"Of course," Hanzo mutters. His first outright lie of the night. But less because he doesn't want his brother to know of his inexperience and more because he doesn't want Genji to get too excited over the implications._ _

__"Right, so just relax." Genji seems to not catch the lie and that _does_ help him relax. He inhales, exhales, and genuinely welcomes it when he feels a thick finger slide into him. Hanzo shivers, squeezes slightly, adjusts to the sensation that is both less uncomfortable and less erotic than he'd been expecting. Until the moment Genji teasingly jabs against his prostate and Hanzo jumps from the sharp spike of unexpected sensation._ _

__"Are you _playing_?" He hisses down at his brother._ _

__Genji lifts a skeptical eyebrow at him, "Hanzo, it's _sex_."_ _

__"Prodding me is not relaxing, " Hanzo huffs, and is annoyed that his tone comes out petulant._ _

__Genji grins, murmurs a quiet "okay", and Hanzo feels that same pressure return, this time as a gentle massage. In only a few seconds he feels his breath going short. "Better?" Genji asks, lips close to Hanzo's ear. Hanzo feels blood burning in his face, but nods._ _

__"Good," Genji says before kissing him, and Hanzo melts into that, happy to pair two such pleasant distractions. Genji's touch is not so sharp and overwhelming that he has to worry about it going too far too fast._ _

__He leads the kiss, short and breathy and deep. He's too warm to go long without letting steam out in billowing exhales against his brother's lips. But focusing on the kiss helps him avoid settling in Genji's lap and rubbing against him until he hits an enticing but ultimately unsatisfying climax. The fingers inside him create some of the most bearable pleasure he's felt all night, so when they withdraw Hanzo fails to prevent a wordless cry of protest._ _

__Hanzo can _feel_ Genji smile, with their mouths so close._ _

__But his brother reassures him, and is good to his word, that he only needs a few seconds. And then the touch is back, this time fingers slicked by cool but quickly warming lubricant. And Hanzo returns to greedily rocking against his brother's fingers, kissing his mouth, and wondering distantly why anyone does anything else in bed if they can be doing this._ _

__His brother is indulgent. Somehow still in no hurry, possessing a patience Hanzo honestly would have thought beyond him. The thick fingers tease his prostate with growing intensity until Hanzo can feel his thighs begin to quiver, until the idea of dealing with his brother's cock doesn't produce a gut sickening clench of his gut as much as a pooling warmth, and that is when Hanzo finally decides to reach between his legs and curl a hand around Genji's brightly clad dick._ _

__Genji is completely hard, not flagging at all, and lets out a startled noise -- have groan, half laugh -- at Hanzo's touch._ _

__" _Hanzo_ ," Genji is not quiet, exactly, but this is the first time he has moaned Hanzo's name, and Hanzo has to resist the urge to stroke him harder, encourage and ply more of that out of him. Instead he keeps his touch delicate. He explores from root to tip, finds the texture of the condom soft and slick, even without lubricant._ _

__Briefly, Hanzo entertains the idea of climbing off and putting it in his mouth. He bets _that_ would surprise and delight his brother. But he realizes he doesn't want to delay any more. Genji is increasing the rhythmic tease of the fingers within his ass, now quickly rubbing at him until it feels like a vibration. Hanzo's breath escapes him, lungs fluttering too quick to be doing their job. His brain feels layered in warm wool, and one of the few completed thoughts left to him is that he wants to see his brother's face when Genji gets what he asks for._ _

__"Remove your hand," Hanzo orders._ _

__Genji stills, meets Hanzo's unfocused eyes with his own, and does as he's told. "Sure thing, boss."_ _

__Hanzo nods, pleased at the immediate compliance. With his hand still on Genji's dick he shifts until he can feel the head pressing against him._ _

__Genji looks mesmerized. Flushed smirk finally replaced by an expression closer to wonder._ _

__And though Hanzo is braced for Genji to want to rush, to push him further, or to tease him for his hesitations and inexperience, he once again finds his brother simply enjoying the moment. So while Hanzo waits with his heart thudding painfully in his chest, Genji squeezes Hanzo's thigh with a slow building smile, as if savoring what he sees._ _

__It's frustrating, in a way, to feel so outmatched. _Especially_ with his brother. Hanzo can admit he enjoys being the more capable one._ _

__But he is more turned on than he can ever remember being. When he lowers himself onto Genji his intention is to go slow, but he finds no real resistance. His brother slides into him in one smooth stroke, and it only starts to feel _too full_ when Hanzo is all but completely nestled in Genji's lap. He takes the last few millimeters determinedly, ignores it when he feels a pain bordering on pleasure, and orders his body to adjust._ _

__It is difficult to look at Genji with anything other than a challenge. But there is no need to. Genji exhales a short, choppy breath, cut up like his lungs are stuttering in his chest._ _

__"Fuck. I was right. You look amazing."_ _

__Hanzo still isn't sure what to do with the compliment, but he does find it pleases him. A small smile forms on his mouth as Genji's hands begin to roam all across his back, from shoulders to spine to ass._ _

__It turns out to be easy to distract his brother from conversation by moving on top of him. It takes some practice to find a rhythm that doesn't feel awkward, but very little before Genji is almost curling around him. He expects his brother to lie back and "enjoy the show", but instead Genji presses incessantly closer, kissing at Hanzo's chest as he rises and falls along the length of his brother's cock. Hands once again dig into his ass, then follow down Hanzo's shivering, tired thighs, to his calves, and finally curl around his feet._ _

__Hanzo swears, now and then, but is otherwise silent. Genji fills the room with approving murmurs, shameless assurances, and low words of possession that Hanzo pretends he doesn't hear so he does not have to admit how much he enjoys them._ _

__He finds an angle that brings him more pleasure than others and repeats that, clenching and relaxing around Genji's cock until he feels his body quivering._ _

__But taking a break isn't an option, not when he has finally been caught in the rising tide of his own need._ _

__This isn't like when Genji teases his cock and Hanzo fears even a small amount of attention will send him crashing over. Now he finds that no amount of pressure threatens to do him in. No matter how quickly Hanzo jerks his hips down to take his brother again, no matter how hard he grinds down, or clenches around his brother, he could still take more. And he _wants_ more. Constantly the unbidden thought crosses his mind that if he could just get _a bit more_ , a bit harder, faster, _something_ he will reach a peak like he's never experienced before._ _

__But he can't keep it up._ _

__Hanzo feels his strength for this position flagging, even with Genji's hands on hips and moaning Hanzo's name into his ear. He curls over his brother, and now it isn't just his thighs that quaver, but his entire body. Still, he does not reach between his legs to give himself relief, instead he draws the frayed edges of his hoarse voice together. "Genji, this isn't enough." His throat somehow feels dry and cracking even as his breathe seems humid enough to steam windows. "I need more."_ _

__"Ooh... shit." For a long moment Genji doesn't move other than to press his face against Hanzos neck._ _

__Now that Hanzo has fallen into shaking stillness, sitting with his brother's cock buried deeply in his ass, he notices Geni's fingers have dug deeply into his hips. Maybe he will have bruises. Later he may mind, right now Hanzo finds that idea drags another shiver through him._ _

__" _Genji_." Hanzo demands, voice coming out desperate this time._ _

__Hanzo feels the breaths from his brother's laughter puffing against his neck, more warmth that is now almost too much. But it hardly matters, not when Genji is also nodding, lifting Hanzo's hips and shoving him back onto the bed. "I hear you, Hanzo. Hang on."_ _

__With the loss of Genji inside of him, Hanzo can already feel the building pressure behind his need crumbling and slipping away. So when his brother's hands drag him closer to the edge of the bed and lift his hips, Hanzo is quick to wrap his legs around Genji's waist. His hands dig into the sheets to help hold the position._ _

__Genji leers down at him, a narrow eyed smirk. It's effectiveness isn't particularly diluted by the fact that Genji's chest is also heaving, that his shoulders are glossy with sweat and sharp lines -- some white, some red -- that Hanzo has apparently left on him. And for a moment Hanzo can imagine himself as his brother sees him, splayed out and desperate. Shameless? No, he can feel the prick of shame, it just seems so incredibly unimportant for once. He'll think about it later. He closes his eyes._ _

__When Genji enters him again, Hanzo realizes he had been _not_ doing this right. Or perhaps simply couldn't from that angle. Genji is able to slam directly into him, and does so without stopping. It's immediately too hard and too fast, and not hard or fast enough. Hanzo jerks in his brother's hands, buries his fists in sheets, and repeats Genji's name in desperate demands. If Genji ever says anything in return, Hanzo doesn't hear it. The world is reduced to a pooling fire in his hips and a need that cuts through him like a razor._ _

__Stray, periodic thoughts cross his mind, in the milliseconds between one fuck and the next. That he must look ridiculous. That his legs at cramping painfully. That Genji's nails feel like they are gouging bloody lines into his ass. That the blurry visage of his naked brother standing over him is one of the most arousing things Hanzo has ever seen. But each thought flits away in an instant; brief whispers sent from a corner of his brain for which Hanzo can not spare a modicum of attention._ _

__Hanzo doesn't keep track of how long they are like that. He only knows that no matter how hard he demands Genji fuck him, and now matter how eagerly his brother complies, he can't _quite_ get... somewhere. To something. The pleasure builds, plateaus, and torments him as with each subsequent spike he is unable to crest. Eventually Hanzo can't take it any more, and has to use his hand._ _

__The ache in his cock is phenomenal, but the release is twice that. It takes one stroke, two, and his climax shoots through him like a firework. Bright points of white hot bliss crackling all the way up his frame. Genji thrusts into him deeply, and Hanzo feels his ass clench down automatically on his brother's cock, hears his brother moan his name while curling over him. Hanzo tries to cling to this sound, hold it to him to heighten his arousal, but it's tugged away. His mind is seared of all thought; it is just his soaring, aching body, the connection to his brother, the feeling of warm liquid spattering across his abdomen._ _

__The next several moments go by in flickers of awareness, as if every time Hanzo blinks he is coming back seconds or minutes later._ _

__Genji stands over him, dark and purpling cock finally free of its ridiculous sheath, jerking himself off and dirtying Hanzo even more. Hanzo tries to protest, to _scold_ , but his voice has betrayed him too much already tonight, so instead he shivers under the humiliation before slipping one hand over his exhausted eyes and kicking his heel into his brother's hip. Genji laughs._ _

__Hanzo blinks and his brother is already on the bed next to him. Hanzo's right half is chill from the cold room and the sweat and come cooling on his body. His left is warm from Genji hovering near by. His lips are also warm, thanks to his brother's mouth on his._ _

__Hanzo blinks and there is a click, distinctly the sound of a photo being taken. Adrenaline abruptly jolts his mind into action, he stares at Genji, standing at his feet, handheld raised. "Delete that." Hanzo croaks; his throat feels tacky. He coughs._ _

__"Nah," Genji informs him, cheeky. "I'm going to do that thing you said. Keepsakes from the famous -- and _infamous_ \-- people I fuck."_ _

__"I said _signatures_ , not _photographs_."_ _

__Genji coyly taps the corner of the computer against his lips. "Do you want to sign it for me?"_ _

__Hanzo glares at his brother, and debates if he even has the energy to fight Genji over this, and then decides he is too tired and sated to care. In the morning he could steal the machine. He trusts his brother to not actually mail it to anyone in the next few hours._ _

__So with a heaved sigh he lies back on the bed. The adrenaline had only helped for a few seconds. "Absolutely not," he mumbles. Or thinks he mumbles._ _

__Hanzo blinks and a warm, wet towel hits him on he stomach. As Hanzo is still lifting the arm draped across his face, a heavy hand scrubs down his torso. The congelling fluids are scraped away, and if it isn't as good as shower, it is enough to let him sleep through the night without needing to get up and shower. Hanzo puts his arm back across his eyes and considers letting Genji keep the photo._ _

__Hanzo blinks and the room is dark. His ankles hang off the side of the bed into the chill night air, but a blanket has been draped across him and a body next to his helps heat the space underneath._ _

__If Genji had ever been cuddled up against him, now his brother, ever restless, has rolled far enough away that the sheets between them are cool._ _

__Hanzo blinks and it is still night, still chilly, he is still on his back and his brother still breathes softly with his back to him._ _

__Hanzo blinks and it is still night, somehow chillier, and Hanzo fixates on the way the sheets rise and fall with his brother's breathes._ _

__Hanzo closes his eyes, turns to his side, and wraps an arm around Genji's waist. His nose and forehead press into the warm skin between his brother's shoulders. He leaves his feet dangling into the frigid morning air. He doesn't wake again until morning._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I hope you have enjoyed this. As a sort of PSA, I will be writing a McGenji doujin (possibly with secondary Shimadacest stuff) within this fic's universe with the lovely [@nohaijiachi](http://nohaijiachi.tumblr.com/)! It will not be ready for SOME TIME (probably summer of 2k17). And while you can subscribe my or hers tumblrs to know about it when it is ready, you can also just subscribe/stay subscribed to this fic. I will update it with a little something to tie it in with the doujin once it is available!
> 
>  
> 
> My **[main tumblr](http://avoresmith.tumblr.com/)** contains fic updates, my various musings on writing, fandom reblogs, and any and all asks. It is not guaranteed to be SFW and I am bad at tags.  
>  My **[writing tumblr](http://voresmithing.tumblr.com/)** contains ONLY my writing.  
>  **[AV on Twitter](http://avoresmith.twitter.com/)** is pretty much just reblogging links from my writing Tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Sex will be in the NEXT chapter, I promise.
> 
> My **[main tumblr](http://avoresmith.tumblr.com/)** contains fic updates, my various musings on writing, fandom reblogs, and any and all asks, and lately a lot of miserable American politics. It is not guaranteed to be SFW and I am bad at tags.  
>  My **[writing tumblr](http://voresmithing.tumblr.com/)** contains ONLY my writing, I where I update Truce (my primary fic) scene-by-scene. And link to anything else I write.  
>  **[AV on Twitter](http://avoresmith.twitter.com/)** is pretty much just reblogging links from my writing Tumblr.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Some Shimadacest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9235376) by [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/pseuds/Kess)




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